


A Portrait of 1,000 Words

by ghostgirl19



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Ghost!Link, Humor, Some Romance, Urban Explorer!Revali, Urban Explorer!Zelda, modern!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27320878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostgirl19/pseuds/ghostgirl19
Summary: Zelda and Revali spend a majority of their nights exploring abandoned places throughout Hyrule. Their next stop is Hyrule Castle, a ghost of its former glory. Although, that doesn't seem to be the only ghost to talk about.Or, in which Zelda finds herself on one heck of an adventure and Revali is convinced the castle is trying to kill him.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Revali & Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 117





	A Portrait of 1,000 Words

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! I'm sorry this is so late, but I hope you enjoy this! :D
> 
> Also, ignore my shameless simping over Link's eyes. It's not my fault they're so pretty xD

Hyrule Castle is a structure trapped in time. A staple of Hyrule, once the symbol of the entire country, and a place shrouded in mystery and intrigue.

Long ago, it stood as the proud stronghold of the Royal Family of Hyrule. There were countless legends surrounding strong princesses and brave knights, with many accounts detailing how the very walls dripped in opulence and captured the awe of anyone lucky enough to see its splendor.

Unfortunately, in the modern day, it proved to be a former shell of what it used to be.

With members of the royal family dying out over time, and leaving the castle constantly being tossed back and forth between new owners every few decades, it has eventually descended into the state of decay that evident enough for the average Hylian to see beyond the gates outside.

Most of the windows that could be seen were smashed. Some still retained pieces of glass, others were reduced to dark, gaping holes. Chunks of the castle itself were missing, such as spires either cut or completely gone, and roofs partially or fully collapsed.

Cold and vacant, the decrepit Hyrule Castle loomed over the citizens of Hyrule, leaving the people to wonder about the secrets kept hidden inside after all these years.

Since no one has claimed ownership to the massive structure, and with it falling into the heavy disrepair it was in, the government declared the castle to be condemned and no one was allowed inside its walls. Those caught could be prosecuted to the highest extent of the law.

However, there would always be a few lawbreakers running about, curious to know what lay behind those walls and brave enough to risk their lives (and clean record) to find the secrets. On this particular night, these rulebreakers come in the form of a cocksure Rito and an inquisitive Hylian.

* * *

“I really don’t think there’ll be any treasure in here, _Princess_ ,” Revali spits, as condescending as always. “People probably looted all the good stuff years ago, probably before we were even born.”

Zelda sighs. Turning around, being sure to aim her flashlight at Revali’s feet—she’s annoyed with him, but she doesn’t want to blind the bastard—she fixes him with narrowed eyes and a twisting of her lips in a scowl.

“For the last time, we’re not looters,” she says. Anyone could tell by listening that she’s had to repeat that phrase many times over the course of their strange partnership.

“Oh?” the Rito goads, leaning down to mockingly smirk in her face. Zelda, in turn, leans back to keep the distance between them and unamused, raises an eyebrow.

“Then what about all those little trinkets you steal whenever we do this?”

“It’s not stealing!” she snaps, her grip on the metal band of the flashlight tightening. “I just…” she falters, because she knows deep down what she does is technically considered that. She just doesn’t think the word applies to her, given her reasoning.

She doesn’t take things from abandoned places for the thrill of it, or because they might look valuable. She takes small things, items that likely wouldn’t net her more than a few rupees. A rusted comb with some teeth missing, a weathered book that was ready to fall apart if handled wrong, a quill with most of the feather gone, an old, frayed ribbon that was more loose threads than actual ribbon. These are the likes of which she has taken home with her over the two years she has been sneaking into abandoned places.

All she wants is to keep a piece of history of the location, that’s all. Something that spoke of the place’s memory. She isn’t a thief, or a looter, by any means. She just…just…

Okay, she steals. By _technicality_ only. But still, it’s not like she has any malicious intent behind what she does. So, she shouldn’t be totally condemned for it right?

“Just what?” Revali asks, smirking as he crosses his wings together. Zelda wants to slap the self-satisfied look off his face, tentative friendship/partnership be damned.

Instead, she chooses the pacifist route, and sighs in exasperation while using her left hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Never mind. We’ve had this discussion enough times as it is. Let’s go.”

Revali retains his smug expression, but doesn’t say anything more and allows Zelda to lead him further down the dark hallway, with the only source of light emanating from the beam of their flashlights. There are dust particles floating around, finally visible thanks to the light provided in Hylia knows how many years.

Zelda inevitably breathes some in as she passes and lets out a loud, high-pitched sneeze that echoes and bounces off the walls around them. Despite knowing the noise came from herself, Zelda still shivers. She can’t help it; it’s so quiet and admittedly creepy in this ancient place that any noise, even something so commonplace as a sneeze, is enough to shake her.

Revali somehow proves himself immune to the dust, but rather than boast about it and taunt Zelda for her weakness, he offers an offhanded ‘bless you’, to which she rolls her eyes at yet thanks him nonetheless.

As they continue walking down the corridor, Zelda reflects on her strange partnership with the Rito.

She wouldn’t exactly call them friends. Partners or associates would be a better term, although if she wants to get affectionate, she could say that they’re acquaintances.

As far as Zelda knows, she was the first of the two of them to become interested in exploring abandoned buildings. She thought about venturing off alone at first—group projects are _not_ her thing—but decided against it after considering the many risks that came with going into a dark, deserted place alone at night.

What if an animal attacked her? Or something fell on her head and knocked her out? Or what if she ran into an unsavory character taking refuge in the ruins? With her luck, she’d stumble into a serial killer’s hideout and wind up becoming his next victim.

Given these dangers, it was plain to see that she would need a partner for this. One that shared her interest in exploring these historic, uninhabited places. And one that wouldn’t turn tail and flee at the slightest noise. Having a coward tagging along with her, constantly flinching and shaking, scared of ridiculous things like ghosts and cobwebs, would only serve to irritate her and slow her down.

Her friends, Purah and Robbie, encouraged her to follow wherever her passions led, but weren’t interested in exploring abandoned places. They’d rather learn about the present to improve the future; they held no interest in the past.

Zelda didn’t have many friends, and with none of them willing to accompany her, she resigned herself into staying home and simply reading about the various places she had in mind on the internet.

Then along came Revali.

Up until that point, they hadn’t talked. They weren’t enemies, by any means. They just ran in different circles and had different personalities. Zelda disliked his arrogance, but other than that she had no personal problems with the prideful Rito.

He said that he heard about her trouble of acquiring an exploration partner, (who he heard that from he didn’t specify) and then proceeded to oh so graciously offer himself for the role. He explained that he had an interest in the weapons of old, especially medieval bows. If they could compromise and explore a few places of his choosing, such as the infamous old stronghold that was the Akkala Citadel, he would be more than happy to accompany her to wherever she wished.

Admittedly, Zelda was hesitant to accept his proposal. They hadn’t even spoken before that day, and now he comes up to her and asks to be her exploration partner? It sent all kinds of warning bells off in her head. He had to be lying; he was probably doing this so he could laugh in her face when she accepted, then make fun of her for believing him in the first place.

Or he would do none of that, and just ditch her. Make her wait alone, in the dark, left to any potential danger by herself in an abandoned place with no one around for miles to help, waiting for a partner that would never come.

To this day, Zelda still isn’t sure what made her agree to Revali’s offer despite all the potential for it backfiring on her. Yet, she’s immensely glad that she did. Because if she gave in to her trepidation, she wouldn’t have the reliable, loyal partner she has now.

He never laughed in her face (about exploring, that is) and never ditched her. He always made it to the chosen location on time, sometimes showing up earlier than her. He helped by bringing supplies, just in case she ever forgot something of hers, like a spare battery for her flashlight or some snacks if they got hungry.

He contributed to her musings of the various objects they’d find, such as guessing the age of a book or theorizing about what an average day looked like back in the location’s prime.

No matter what, Revali dutifully stayed by her side. Even when there was a stray noise that Zelda couldn’t identify, Revali bravely stayed, never frightened.

Well, she suspected that he got scared sometimes and tried to hide it, but thankfully it never escalated to leaving her to fend for herself.

He may be an insufferable jerk sometimes, but she wouldn’t have anyone else for her partner.

* * *

“What is this place?” Zelda asks, shining her flashlight in the rather small, rather out of sight and out of the way room they have come across.

“Looks like an old storage or junk room,” Revali surmises, eyeing a dust-ridden chair with two broken legs in disgust. “Though I can’t imagine why the Royal Family would have something so,” he pauses and waves a wing, “peasantry.”

Zelda bites her lower lip, nodding as she assesses the room with a critical gaze. It appears as Revali said; for the most part, the entire room was littered with what most people would consider to be junk.

There are several furniture items, some broken, others covered by a white sheet. Zelda takes a step inside and flashes her light on a large wooden vanity. At first glance, nothing seemed wrong with it, until the beam of light reflected off the mirror, allowing Zelda to see the crack running from top to bottom in a diagonal twist.

“Maybe it wasn’t used by the Royal Family,” she mused, fully stepping inside. This stuff may look like a bunch of useless junk, but as Zelda has come to learn from her time exploring, it’s that appearances can often be deceiving.

Besides, one man’s trash is another’s treasure. There might be something here she may find to be of value yet!

“After all,” she continues, carefully stepping around a strange-looking painted mask left to rot on the floor, “all known descendants of them died a long time ago. The new owners might’ve used this room to store broken things if they were too lazy to throw them out, or to find a better place for them.”

“I guess so,” Revali nonchalantly acquiesces, shrugging his shoulders. He watches Zelda as she makes her way around the room, stopping once to consider an ocarina faded in color with a large, gaping hole in the base, before deeming it nothing of consequence and continuing on.

And then, she stops.

Attention successfully captured, Zelda bends down to one knee to get a better look at it, and tilts her head since the object of her scrutiny is lying on its side.

It’s a large portrait, and likely a venerated one from a long time ago, solely judging from the gold-plated frame encasing the painting. She could only imagine the shine that would derive from it if it currently wasn’t covered in a sheen of dust, and instead polished to its full potential.

She purses her lips, considering, and then blows out a puff of air. The dust from the spot where she aimed immediately kicks up, flying in her face and sneaking up her nose, causing her to loudly sneeze.

Revali shakes his head behind her.

She sniffs a few times, mentally mourning her lack of hindsight to bring tissues. When she brings her gaze to the spot she blew on, she’s dismayed to see that it didn’t make much of a difference. The gold would only shine if properly cared for again. A mere puff of air wouldn’t improve it.

She reluctantly drops the depressing thought and continues her perusal of the picture. The painting itself is torn, with the top flap hanging over and concealing the subject’s face. However, Zelda can see a pair of legs clad in white boots and the tip of a sword touching the floor in front.

An urge strikes Zelda then: she wants to see the entire painting. A pair of boots and a sword isn’t enough to satisfy her curiosity. She must see the subject who held such importance as to earn a earn a gold-plated framed portrait of themselves.

Without another moment of hesitation, Zelda sets down her flashlight and takes the painting’s sides with both hands, then slowly hauls it right-side up, though not without a grunt of effort from her end. It’s heavier than it looks!

“What are you doing?” Revali groans from behind her. Zelda scrunches up her nose, scowling but doesn’t give into his taunt by responding to it. She doesn’t understand what his problem is; he didn’t just lift up a giant, heavy portrait by himself!

Spitefully ignoring him, Zelda picks up her flashlight and shines it on the flap concealing the subject’s face.

With baited breath, she reaches out and takes the corner of the flap in between her thumb, index, and middle fingers. Then, gently, painstakingly slowly, Zelda lifts up the torn bit of canvas and holds it to where it was originally.

The ensuing sight draws a gasp from her throat.

Eyes, as luminous yet soft as the gentle glow from a blue nightshade in the dark, stare unflinchingly back into her entranced gaze. Twin, thick locks of dirty blond hair fall and frame his striking visage. His mouth is set in a stern frown, yet she could easily imagine it curving into the smallest of smirks when around the right person.

The uniform he bears is fitted nicely to his form, she notes with an appreciative grin. It’s pressed and neat without a wrinkle to be seen, although the painter could’ve made it appear that way to make the subject look more refined.

She loves the uniform itself, from the high, navy blue collar with gold trim, to the darker amber embellishment of the Hyrulean crest below it. A red cord, almost like rope, crosses over the center of his chest, with the two ends held together by a golden clip. Two flaps of the blue overcoat (she isn’t sure what to call it) of the uniform drop down to just above his snowy white boots, and in keeping with the golden theme, the color is trimming those flaps and an intriguing design is printed on the ends.

Pristinely white gloves encase hands holding the pommel of a sword pointed to the floor; the sword itself is worthy of her admiration. Even through a painting she can tell it’s polished to perfection. The golden sheen of the winged hilt—likely modeled after the mythical Master Sword of legend—shines through the boundaries of paint and paper. She isn’t sure if the sword is merely a prop or a real one, but she has a feeling that no matter if its real or fake, it can cut with deadly precision whenever he wields it.

Her eyes are inexplicably drawn to his features again, although her focus is quickly and helplessly stolen by the allure stemming from the captivating blue of his eyes. If only she could see them for real; if they’re this beautiful in a painting, she could only imagine how breathtaking they were when brimming with the vibrancy of life.

The steely set of his brow can’t deter her from admiring him. He’s the most handsome man she’s ever seen.

“How long are you going to stare at it?” Revali snaps, eliciting a startled flinch and a yelp from Zelda. The flashlight leaves her grasp and clatters to the ground, leading Zelda to turn around and glare at the Rito, who meets her irritated look with a vexed scowl of his own.

“It’s just a painting,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I don’t get why you’re so attached to it.”

“I’m just fascinated, is all,” Zelda retorts, then tucks the torn flap into the corner of the frame. Luckily it stays, and Zelda stands again, wincing from kneeling for so long. The crack her knees make as she rises induce an embarrassed grimace. A girl her age shouldn’t have cracking knees yet.

She steps back, using the flashlight to shine on the portrait with one hand, and uses the other to raise her fingers to her chin in thought.

“He appears to be wearing a military uniform of sorts. It doesn’t look like a common soldier’s garb, and a common soldier likely wouldn’t earn the privilege of having his own portrait painted and kept in the castle. This man must’ve been a knight of high standing to receive that honor. Which begs the question…why was a portrait of a knight of great renown treated this way? This should be in a hall, or a study, not torn down the middle and thrown into a junk room to be forgotten.”

Revali shrugs indifferently. “Maybe he wasn’t as great as you think. He doesn’t look all that powerful; I bet I could take him in a fight.”

Zelda opens her mouth to refute his claim, because it’s firstly childish and secondly disrespectful to the man’s memory, but stops when the Rito lets out a pained squawk.

“Ow! What the hell?!”

Zelda turns around just in time to catch a small chunk fall off Revali’s shoulder and tumble to the ground. While Revali curses and rubs his head, Zelda dips down and retrieves the chunk, which she identifies as a small piece of rubble about half the size of her palm.

“Are you okay?” Zelda asks, her eyes softening in concern as Revali is still grumbling and rubbing his head.

“No, I’m not okay!” he snaps, his beak loudly clacking in the way it only does when he’s really angry, and Zelda has to press her lips together to smother the laugh bubbling in her throat.

“That rock-!”

“Actually, it’s a piece of rubble. Likely fell from the ceiling.”

“Whatever it is, it hit me in the head!”

Revali, wincing and rubbing his head, glares up at the darkened ceiling. Zelda follows suit, although her stare is more of the curious nature.

“The roof seems to be in a better state compared to the rest of the castle,” she murmurs. “Although it’s not wholly unbelievable that a stray bit of it fell on you. This room _is_ probably hundreds of years old.”

Revali tsks and crosses his arms, not commenting on her assumption. It was almost as if he was disappointed that he couldn’t find some invisible culprit for the crime. Although, he ceased rubbing the top of his head. Luckily, it seemed that his pain faded. Unluckily, that only created more room for his annoyance to seep through.

“Come on,” he grumbles. “Let’s see what else this castle has to offer besides falling debris and worthless paintings.”

He turns and starts to walk away, not bothering to check if Zelda is following him. Too bad the weird mask that Zelda had earlier stepped over has somehow teleported and gets in his way, leading him to stumble and nearly fall. The Rito curses loudly, and Zelda can do nothing but desperately hold in her laughter as she watches him frustratingly kick the mask to the other side of the room.

It isn’t her fault that a bird getting his feathers ruffled is a funny sight.

“Hang on,” she manages at last. How the giggles didn’t escape her, she didn’t know, and is thankful for it. She didn’t want to imagine how mad he’d get if she openly started laughing at his plights.

“I want to look at the painting more. I feel that there’s something special about it.”

And she does. There’s something in that enchanting blue stare that calls to her. She isn’t sure why, although her heart, that has accelerated in beat, probably has an answer.

Revali rolls his eyes again and breaths an exasperated sigh.

“I don’t get what makes it so special. The guy’s probably been dead for hundreds of years, and he wasn’t even that good-looking anyway. If you ask me, you should—OW!”

Again, Revali loudly curses and rubs his head. He glares hatefully up at the ceiling, ignoring the guilty stone as it falls to the ground, before stomping off.

“That’s it! I’m getting out of this room before it kills me!”

Zelda bites her lip. She doesn’t want to get separated from her partner, at least not this early into their exploration, and in a vast and unknown place like Hyrule Castle. And so, she glances wistfully back at the mysterious knight one more time before jogging off after the irritated Rito.

* * *

Revali isn’t having a good night.

For one thing, he’s the clumsiest that Zelda has ever seen him. Stumbling, tripping and falling over seemingly nothing. And to put the cherry on top, the poor Rito sometimes suffered getting conked on the head by a small bit of stone here, a roof tile there, and when she leaned toward him and placed a hand on his wing to get his attention, Revali suddenly faceplanted to the floor.

He claimed that someone grabbed his ankle and made him trip, but of course there was nobody there besides Zelda, and since she was standing at his side the whole time, there was no way she was responsible.

Revali was convinced that the castle was trying to kill him. Zelda was convinced he was just having an off-night and was being a baby by trying to pin his faults on the inanimate building.

Whatever was going on with him, Zelda wished Revali would suck it up and get over himself, because his bad attitude was putting a damper on what should’ve been an educationally riveting night.

It was obvious he wanted to leave as soon as possible. When they found the library, they stayed for a far shorter time than Zelda would have preferred. She only got to look at a few musty books (one containing a recipe for fruitcake that she was interested in trying) before Revali was tugging on her arm and snapping at her to go.

He received a stone to the head _and_ fell on the floor for that one. If Zelda believed in karmic retribution, she would’ve thanked it. The other alternative that she came up with—one she immediately dismissed as a serious theory—was that a mischievous ghost was the cause of all of Revali’s woes.

She didn’t believe in the supernatural, and neither did Revali, since when she teasingly brought the idea up, he scoffed and insisted that ghosts weren’t real. He didn’t know what was going on with himself that night, but he was adamant that it wasn’t some imaginary, malicious specter that had nothing better to do in the afterlife than making his life inconvenient from beyond the grave.

He henceforth received two pebbles to the head.

Revali was tense for the rest of their exploration. Zelda could see he was visibly trembling with the urge to call it a night and storm out of the castle, exploration complete or no. What made him not quit was lost on Zelda, but she was thankful for his loyalty in staying by her side.

Until they came upon a weapons room.

Revali instantly fell in love, especially with the golden bows that still managed to find a way to shine despite the layer of dust coating them and their age. It was like a switch flipped on; suddenly he forgot about his anger and practically ran to the bow that caught his eye.

Zelda watched as he turned it this way and that, running a feather along the handle, and experimentally tugging the bowstring. Surprisingly it didn’t break, something that which delighted Revali.

After about fifteen minutes of this, Zelda got bored and politely—politely! Not rudely like Revali did with her—asked if they could move on. Revali refused, wanting more time to admire the craftsmanship of the medieval weapon. He suggested that she go on her own and they could simply meet at a designated spot when they were done.

Zelda hadn’t wanted to, but she didn’t want to stay in a weapons room looking at the same thing for hours either. There was still plenty of castle to be explored yet, and she still hadn’t found what she wished to take home with her.

She rationalized that nothing was likely to happen. If a serial killer inhabited these walls, they would’ve killed them by now, or at least made a noise to reveal themselves. Also, Zelda had her cellphone on her, so if she needed help, Revali could be reached with just a few swipes of her finger.

And so, with a gulp yet putting on a brave face, she walked out of the room and continued her exploration.

Which leads her to now, traversing through what appears to be the castle’s dungeon.

Shivering, Zelda pulls up the zipper of her hoodie as high as it goes. It’s drastically colder down here compared to the dank halls of the castle. The stone walls and floor can’t retain any heat at all, and without windows, this place likely hasn’t had a light/heat source in hundreds of years. 

The air smells stale too, and as Zelda catches a glimpse of a pile of rotted bones in a closed cell, she can only imagine how long it’s been since anyone has been down here.

She walks slowly, in between the twin rivulets of water flowing down the path to prevent herself from making any noise. The cold isn’t the only thing making her shiver; there’s something undeniably creepy about this place. She feels like she’s being watched, which is absurd, since nothing’s been alive down here in years.

The ghosts of the prisoners of Hyrule past, perhaps? She might’ve considered it, had she believed in spirits.

Flashing her light through the cells offers nothing but rotting, wooden benches supported by rusted chains and the occasional pile of bones. Zelda tried opening a few, but they were locked and rusted shut on top of it. Even if she managed to find a ring of keys, she probably wouldn’t be able to get them open unless she used a crowbar, which she doesn’t have.

But from outside the bars, she can still get a good view of the bones, and what she sees sends a chill down her spine. Some of them don’t even look Hylian. In fact, they more closely resemble the monsters pictured in fairy tales that she read as a little girl. If monsters were real at one time, why were they locked up down here? Wouldn’t the Hylian army have merely killed them upon sight instead of holding them prisoner? What purpose did they have in keeping them locked away like this?

She deliberates it for another minute or so before deciding the matter won’t be answered unless she retrieves a book, or a diary containing the information. Biting her lip, she journeys on, down the hall and finally comes to a sight that prompts her to pause and blink in surprise.

This cell is left wide open, practically inviting her in. It’s littered with bones and cobwebs in the corners, but it’s open for her investigation.

She doesn’t waste a second thinking about it. She darts forward with a grin; maybe she’ll find something noteworthy enough to take home! Or, at least to glean new information from. Hell, she may even find an old ring of keys that would unlock the cells, even though they’d be useless thanks to the rusted locks.

The spacious cell has another opening, leading right. Zelda takes it, and gasps at what she sees.

An enormous pile of bones sits in the center of the room. They’re much bigger than any beast Zelda can fathom them belonging to. The ribcage alone could compete with the size of a car! Or several…

What kind of creature left behind these bones? The only thing she can think of is a hinox, but those were just monsters in stories. They weren’t real…were they?

Zelda circles around the bones, in a similar tandem to how her mind is spinning with questions, possible answers, and even more questions. Were hinoxes real, after all? There were no beasts that she knew of that could possibly possess the shape and size of these bones. Did she just discover the remains of a hinox? A once living, breathing monster that she thought only terrorized fictional people?

Zelda could be on the brink of the discovery the likes of which this century has never seen! How many scholarly journals could be published about this? How many additions and corrections added to both textbooks and storybooks? If hinoxes were real, what other monsters were? Perhaps the bones she saw before belonged to moblins, or bokoblins, why, they could even belong to lizalfos!

As Zelda runs around the pile, taking care to look but not touch in her excitement, a stone tablet catches her attention out of the corner of her eye. Maybe it details what this creature once was?

She bends down to inspect it. The text is carved into the stone, withered and chipped over time, but still legible. Using her finger, she follows along with the script as she reads aloud.

**—Test of the Royal Guard—**

**Strike down the giant foe to become**

**recognized as a knight of the kingdom.**

A test? They kept a possible hinox, a monster said to be of enormous size and strength, capable of levelling whole villages, locked up here to be slain by a man as a test to be initiated into the Royal Guard? How incredibly dangerous! What if the man couldn’t beat it? Or what if someone accidentally got locked in-

That’s when she hears it.

A rumble, thundering in her ears and causing her stomach to clench nervously. A jolt of an ancestral, unspeakable fear rips through her body, momentarily freezing her in place. Her instincts are screaming at her to run, even when she hasn’t discerned what the danger is yet. Yet somehow, she _knows_.

Slowly, she stands, though not without a stumble due to the trembling ground. Her heart plummets in her chest at what’s awaiting her.

The bones are somehow coming together! Piece by piece, they’re rearranging themselves into their proper places, where they once were back when their owner was alive. Attempting to temper her panic, Zelda wracks her mind for a scientific explanation, anything, that would explain why this is happening. How is it doing that?! It’s been dead for so long; dead things cannot move!

The door allowing her only escape slams shut, the sound of the metal slamming into the ground ringing ominously in her ears.

Picking her head up, and up, and up, she sees at a large, black eye with a sickly green slit in the center, likely acting as a pupil, blink at her.

The stalnox’s jaw creaks and cracks and groans as it forms into a terrifying grin.

And Zelda screams.

* * *

Is this how it ends, she thinks, standing frozen in fear in a dark dungeon, eyes locked with death itself, helpless to do anything to prevent it?

Even if she attempts to call Revali, he wouldn’t make it in time. And what would he do, anyway? The door is shut and probably wouldn’t give unless some substantial effort was applied. And if Revali somehow got it open before the stalnox ripped her apart, how could he save her? He may be a skilled flyer, but she doubted that he could dive and twist to avoid the stalnox _while_ bearing her weight.

Trembling, Zelda takes a shaky step back as the stalnox rips off one of its ribs. The piercing, toxic green pupil is trained solely her as he lifts it threateningly above and behind his head, in the universal posture for throwing.

Dear Hylia, is it going to use one of its own ribs as a weapon?!

In the milliseconds before the inevitable throw, Zelda’s eyes dart around desperately for a chance of escape. Her heart is pounding in her ears so loudly she can barely hear the stalnox growl in warning. Unshed tears coat her lashes as the possibilities frantically run through her mind.

Her only chance is to run around it. But could she do it without getting stepped on? Can she be quick enough to not get blocked off by its massive leg?

And then what? If she makes it to the door, she’d probably be crushed by one of its ribs, or perhaps a femur, before she could wrench the door open.

The stalnox drags its arm back a few more inches, then fires.

Too late. She thought about it for too long; now she would surely die.

Zelda braces herself and squeezes her eyes shut. She thinks about Revali, how she pities him for how he’s going to find his partner: mangled and bloody beyond recognition. She hates how she’ll be the cause of the trauma that she will undoubtedly inflict onto him.

What is he going to tell her father?

 _Oh,_ her _father._ He doesn’t even know about her late-night exhibitions into abandoned places. What would Revali tell him? How would he break the news that his only child was killed by a literal monster in a cold, dark castle that they had no business venturing inside of in the first place?

She’s only 16; she’s barely lived! She hasn’t graduated honors with distinction, she hasn’t gone to college, hasn’t made a career in anthropology, hasn’t discovered a groundbreaking Sheikah relic of the past, gotten married, hell, she hasn’t even kissed anyone yet!

_Please…someone, anyone, help me!_

A loud clang sends Zelda flinching. The second one heard immediately afterward has her warily opening her eyes.

She’s aware of two things: she’s unharmed and, most importantly, alive.

Oh, and there’s a man standing protectively in front of her, crouched in a battle-ready stance, sword drawn and poised to attack. The shield that’s strapped to his arm and gripped tightly in his fingers is raised up and to the side, as if it had just traveled in a powerful arc across his body.

The splintered remains of the rib lie uselessly on the other side of the chamber. The man must’ve parried it with his shield and sent it flying into the wall. Those must have been the noises she heard that startled her into the realization that she wasn’t dead.

Zelda is powerless to react in any other way other than openly gawk in amazement.

Tongues of blueish-green flames lick at his legs, going so far as to his arms. They pulsate and throb, as if in tune to his immense fighting spirit. His entire aura is awash in the luminous glow that bears the same likeness as the stone it’s named after.

The hair that she can see is a darkish blond, although some of its vibrancy is lost due to the glow surrounding and emanating from him. The rest is covered under a navy-blue cap…a very familiar cap.

In fact, as Zelda’s eyes roam over his figure, she is shocked to confirm that he is indeed wearing the same uniform as the man in the painting. Everything down to the last detail, white gloves and boots, red, roped chord across his chest, the belt, why, he’s even wielding the same golden sword!

She’s never seen anything like this. There is no scientific explanation for it; a man wearing a knight’s uniform from Hyrule’s past, popping out of nowhere surrounded by tongues of fire with no source of fuel in sight?

Zelda has always believed in the phrase: seeing is believing.

But she doesn’t know what she’s seeing. Nothing she’s ever seen in this world describes him. He _can’t_ be of this world.

So then, what _is_ he?

She doesn’t have time to ponder the question any longer. Her attention is stolen by the man—anomaly?—who darts forward and uses his sword to hack away at the bony ankles of the beast. The stalnox roars in agony and tries to make a swipe at her protector with its bony arm, but he dodges at the last minute and starts slashing away at the left ankle.

Zelda believes his goal is to take down the monster starting at its foundation: the feet. If they go, then the whole thing, like a building, will collapse. However, she soon learns that this isn’t the case at all. The monster goes against her expectations and simply _sits down_ of all things, although it looks a little dazed.

The man takes the moment of opportunity to leap in the air…and stab the stalnox in his eye! Zelda shuts her eyes and lurches on her feet; the unsettling sight won’t leave behind her lids no matter how tightly she presses them shut. The urge to gag strikes, forcing her to bring a fist to her lips and her cheeks to puff out in an unflattering way, but she manages to hold it back, at least until she has a toilet available to privately retch in.

When she dares to peek an eye open, she nearly breaks her resolve as she sees the eye bouncing on the ground and staring up at her. Zelda shrieks and kicks it away from her, right in the path of the charging knight, who drives his sword into it until only the hilt is showing.

The monster screams one last, anguished roar until he disappears in a cloud of purple smoke.

And just like that its over. As quickly as the threat arrived, her mysterious savior conquered it.

She had come so close to death, only to be torn away from it at last possible second. She’s discovered that monsters exist not just in legends, but in the real world as well. And a man garbed in knight’s clothing of a kingdom long gone, with blue-green fire surrounding himself, something she _still_ can’t explain, has bravely defeated the monster, just like the hero in her stories.

It’s enough to make one’s knees give out and fall uselessly to the floor.

Meanwhile, her savior retrieves his fallen sword, the weapon having no support since the eye has disappeared along with its owner. A quick look confirms that the splintered remains of the rib the stalnox originally tried to attack her with has vanished as well.

Then, for the first time since appearing, the man finally turns around and reveals his face.

It feels like the floor gives out beneath her, though strangely she can still feel the stones beneath her. A gasp lodges in her throat, and she shakily raises a finger to point at him.

“You-!”

The handsome knight in the painting!

He walks closer to her and grins, then gently takes her hand in his gloved one. It’s not wholly unpleasant, a little cold, yet a heat rises to her cheeks nonetheless. Absently she wonders if its due to the flames encompassing him, but dismisses it when she can’t feel them burn anywhere else.

Her eyes are entrapped in his own, unable to look away, as her hero boldly bends to reverently kiss her knuckles. She recalls his eyes in the portrait, how bright and blue and beautiful they were. They’re different now, tinged with a green hue like the flames flickering at his feet. They’re not exactly sparking with the fire of life as she wished to see, but they’re lovely for what they are.

The feel of his mouth on her bare skin is, like his touch, cool, but not uncomfortable. Yet the heat she felt before skyrockets until her entire face is flushed.

His smirk curves deviously deeper, then in one fell swoop, he steps back and gallantly dips into a respectful bow at the waist, before gradually fading from sight.

Although, it isn’t before that she notices something startling about him, aside from the fire and appearing and disappearing out of thin air, that is.

There was a dark line, a streak running across his neck. He didn’t have that in his portrait.

A sense of dread tightens in her stomach, and it twists and burns until she feels as if it’s entirely in knots. She can’t explain why; she doesn’t know what that dark mark was. But she has an eerie feeling that it wasn’t tied to anything good.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there, contemplating her adventure in the castle, how she ventured to the dungeon, the monster, the knight in the painting saving her life from beyond…

Beyond? Could he really be a-?

“Zelda! Zelda, are you in there?!”

Zelda snaps to attention, her head whipping towards the door. She jumps to her feet and calls back an affirmative.

“I am! The door’s stuck!”

There are a series of resounding bangs heard, likely from the Rito ramming his shoulder into the door. Finally, he bursts through, and when he sees her, he forgoes running altogether and flies to her.

He furiously checks her over, leaning over her head to see it clearly, and even runs a wing through the blonde locks to assure himself there’s no bumps. He then grips her shoulders as his eyes frantically scan the rest of her body, the rapid movement in tandem to his rapid questioning of her well-being.

“Are you okay? What the hell was that?! Are you hurt? I heard all these crashing sounds and stomping and-”

“Revali, it was amazing!” Zelda breathes, breaking from his hold to grab at the backpack she originally left with him. She digs inside until she retrieves her notebook and pen, dedicated for her research and theories. She imagines that this night will take up several pages.

“There was a hinox, no, a _stalnox_ , because it was dead!” she begins, walking in a circle as she writes. “And then it attacked me! No, _first_ , it was just a pile of bones. _Then,_ they all came together to form the stalnox! And then it ripped one of its own ribs off. Can you imagine?”

She pauses and beams at the dumbfounded Rito.

“It tried to use one of it’s own bones to attack me! Do you think it hurt itself? Wait, no, that wouldn’t be logical, since it’s made entirely of bones and with the flesh long-ago decayed, all the nerves are gone. But then why did it howl in pain when he hit it?”

“Uh, who?” Revali asks, utterly lost.

This time when she turns to him, she’s beaming and a peculiar blush is coating her cheeks.

“The knight in the portrait we saw earlier! When the stalnox was about to throw its rib at me, presumably to kill me, the knight appeared and parried it with his shield! And then he slashed at its legs with his sword, and that brought down the stalnox, and then he leaped up in the air and stabbed its eye! Which then made the eye fall out, and then it bounced towards me which is gross, hence why I kicked it away, and then the knight stabbed the eye again and it was all over!”

Zelda is heaving for breath by the end, though her enthusiasm is not hampered in the slightest.

“He saved me!” she says, almost in a whisper. She knows it happened, yet she is still having trouble believing it did. “And he looked just like he did in the painting, uniform, sword and all! Except he was surrounded by fire!”

“Fire?” Revali deadpans, crossing his arms together. He isn’t buying her story, but that isn’t stopping Zelda from telling it. He doesn’t even think she notices his skepticism.

“Yes, fire! Little tongues of blue-greenish flames engulfed him. There was also a glow of the same color surrounding him. He appeared out of thin air, and then he disappeared after he saved me.”

She doesn’t mention the slight flirtation that took place. For some reason, she feels it’s a secret she wants to keep to herself. It was a private moment; only the two of them need know what happened.

“I think,” she says, pausing to write in her notebook. “He was a ghost! There’s no other plausible explanation. I couldn’t see a source of fuel for the fire anywhere, and he looked exactly as he did in the portrait. There’s no mistake, it was him. And if he died back in the old age of Hyrule, then he simply must be a ghost!”

“I’m sure he is,” Revali placates her, resting a wing on her shoulder. He doesn’t have the heart to extinguish that rare smile that reminds him of the sun itself. To do so would be a crime against humanity, though you would never catch him admitting it aloud.

Then, something shines in the corner of his eye.

Turning, he’s met with something neither of them have seen in any of the abandoned places they’ve explored thus far, yet it’s entirely cliché to find all the same.

A literal treasure chest.

“Zelda, what’s that?”

Zelda follows his line of sight, gasping as she lays eyes on the flawless, golden and silver chest without a speck of dust or rust.

Taking the moment to put her notebook away, she immediately thereafter sprints to the chest and excitedly opens it. Peering inside, she blinks, then lets out a quiet ‘ah!’.

It’s a little heavy, but if her knight could manage it with ease, then she can lift it too.

Revali, gob smacked, watches as Zelda pulls out an entire _shield_ from the treasure chest.

It’s a flawless shield. He can’t see a single crack or chip in the blue paint covering a majority of it. The golden emblem of the Triforce finds a way to shine despite the bleak and dark chamber they’re in. The red crest of Hyrule lays proudly beneath it, a warning to all that marks the shield’s bearer as a defender of Hyrule, vowed to courageously slay evil forces with their very life if need be.

“Amazing,” Zelda breathes, hugging the shield to her chest as she gazes down in veneration at her prize. It’s the same shield her knight used to protect her. And now she has one to call her own.

She doesn’t know where it came from, or how it got there, but for once, she isn’t questioning it.

“That’s quite a trinket you have to take home with you,” Revali says, giving the shield an appreciative glance. He may be partial to bows, but he could appreciate a fine shield when he sees one.

Zelda nods and looks at her partner with a warm smile.

“Yes, it is.”

There’s no way she’s leaving this here. Somehow, she feels that her knight meant for her to have it. Although, why did he? It’s not like she earned it; _he_ was the one who took down the beast and _wait a minute_!

“The test!” she exclaims suddenly, throwing Revali off-kilter as she runs to an old stone tablet. With her arms full, she could only wildly gesticulate with her head as she speaks.

“The Test of the Royal Guard! The test was to slay a beast, and my knight did that! He had the same shield as the one I’m holding right now…that means he was in the Royal Guard! I knew he wasn’t just a random knight!”

She bounces on the tips of her toes in her jubilation. For reasons she can deliberate later, she’s utterly proud of the man who saved her.

“He was in the Royal Guard! That helps in explaining why he had his own portrait painted! But he must have been _really_ special, because although men in the Royal Guard must have been highly skilled and accomplished, not all of them had their images painted, and-”

Revali shakes his head. With a fond smile and without a word, he gently pushes on the small of her back to get her moving, out of the chamber, the dungeon, and out of the castle entirely.

He’s despondent that he isn’t the source of her smiles or lively babbling. It’s even worse that another man _is_ the cause of it, ghost or no.

But alas, it would be a crime to take away that smile.

So, he doesn’t.

Although, he does remove his wing after receiving a pebble to the head again. He doesn’t need a jealous ghost following him home and making his life miserable there. One night is enough.


End file.
